Crystalline Myrnin
by Flying Penguinz
Summary: Myrnin's hyped up on his crystal meds. Entirely crack. Do not take this seriously if you have a strong liking for story lines being similar to the books. Rated T for naughty Myrnin language... for shame. - I am Flying Penguinz and I approve this message.
1. The Beginning

**Myrnin's a little hyped up on his crystal meds. What's the worst that could happen... right? **

**I needed something to cheer me up. Here's a one-shot with the characters Myrnin, Claire, Amelie and Oliver. ;)**

**Oh, and it's written from Myrnin's point of view, in... FIRST PERSON! Whoa... This is the first fanfiction I've done in first person, so tell me what you think.**

The walls, they were closing in all around me. I was beginning to feel like I couldn't breathe. I gasped, trying to force air into my lungs. Nothing entered my airways. I was dying! I clutched the sheets on my bed to cover my head, maybe that way, I wouldn't have to see the blood everywhere when I got squashed by my walls.

"Noooo!" I screamed. Hey, I could breathe!

"Myrnin? What's wrong?" The little girl was surprised by my yelling. Well, she hadn't been paying attention to me, I was going to die! Oh. The walls had quit moving. Okay, that was good. I got up and stood on the floor. Oh no, it felt like the floor was pitching around as if I was on a boat back to Prague! Were they shipping me back there? Why would they do such a thing?

"I don't want to go back there. Don't make me!" I shouted.

The little girl moved over to me. She yelled back, trying to match my tone, "What are you talking about?" Ha! No one could match the glass rattling pitch of my wonderful voice. I wanted to show her, so I started singing opera.

"Myrnin, what's wrong with you?"

"Noooothiiiing!" I sang. Then I stopped and realized I was so happy. I hadn't been this happy for such a long time! "You're Claire," I said, realizing who this girl was. I laughed, I was being stupid! "And I'm Myrnin!"

"Uh... yeah. Are you okay?"

I was very offended. "Claire! Why would you ask such a thing? I'm okay!" How could Claire do that? Did she think I was crazy? There went my good mood. I shouted, "I'm fine! Do you think I went back on the loony bin? I'm okay!"

Claire was watching me with wide eyes. She pulled out her cellular phone and dialed a number.

"Claire?" That was Amelie on the other end.

"NO! Claire, don't let her take me!" Amelie was going to send me back to Prague. Why didn't she like me anymore?

"Hi, Amelie? Myrnin's acting—" I tackled Claire and wrestled the phone from her hand. "Myrnin! Give that back!"

"Amelie? Myrnin here. Please, please, please don't send me back to Prague! I'll be good."

"Myrnin?" She sounded concerned. I really didn't want to go back to the Czech Republic.

"Yes, I said it was Myrnin. Why would you do such a thing, Amelie?" Claire was trying to take the phone from me, but I climbed onto one of my bookshelves so she couldn't reach me.

"I'm not going to send you to Prague, Myrnin. Why would you think that?"

"I'm on a ship right now, Amelie! Get me off of here!"

Claire shouted, "You're not on a ship, Myrnin! Give me the phone!"

"Myrnin, let me speak to Claire," Amelie said coolly.

"Will you not send me there if I do?"

"Myrnin, I won't get you off that ship to Prague if you don't give the phone back to Claire," she said firmly.

"Okay!" I yelled. Jeesh, Amelie was certainly angry at someone, or else she'd talk nicer to me! "Here's Claire," I said calmly, trying to show her how being nice with manners and such was done.

"Finally," Claire muttered as I handed the cell phone to her. I jumped off the bookshelf and went to go eavesdrop on their conversation. "Hey, Amelie. Sorry about this, but as you heard, Myrnin's kind of going crazy. I don't know what's wrong with him," Claire said into the phone.

"Mmm, I see. I'll be down quickly." Then the line went dead. Claire shut her phone and looked back to me.

"What's wrong with you, Myrnin?"

"Huh? There's something wrong?"

"No, I'm asking if you're going crazy again."

"NOOO! Claire! I already told you I'm not going back for another ride on the crazy train!"

"Shh, God, you don't have to be so loud," she hissed.

"No saying God's name in vain, Claire," I chastised.

"Since when do you care?"

"Since I realized life is the most wonderful thing in the world."

"No, seriously."

"I _am _being serious, Claire."

"Not ten minutes ago, you were cursing God's name because you couldn't find that little green book you were looking for."

"I changed a few seconds ago, Cl—Oh yes! That book!" I went back to my bed I'd been sitting on. Where had that gone? Did it sprout legs and run away from me? Why would it do that? That hurt my feelings... I felt tears well up into my eyes. "Claire," I said sadly.

"Wh—Myrnin, are you _crying_?"

"My book ran away from me!" The tears fell.

"Um, no it didn't," she said, as if I were stupid. I wasn't stupid.

"I'm not stupid!" I shouted.

"I never said you were—"

"You're mean, Claire!"

"Myrnin, I—" Then we both felt the power of a portal.

"See, Claire? See these genius portals? I made these. I'm not stupid," I said proudly, my tears disappearing, as the door opened. I rushed over and slammed it back shut. "Who could that be?" I asked Claire.

"Move," Claire said, shoving me aside. "It's Amelie."

"Oh no! Amelie! She's come to send me to Prague!" I ran and hid behind a bookshelf. "Shh, don't tell her I'm here."

Claire rolled her eyes as I peeked from behind the bookshelf. She opened the door for Amelie and the vampire queen walked in, looking offended I had slammed the door on her. Ha! Well, she was going to send me away...

"Where is he?" Amelie asked.

"Shh! Claire, don't tell her!" I whispered from my hiding place. Claire rolled her eyes, again. Amelie flashed over to where I was. How did she know?

"Myrnin, what's going on?" she asked.

"Nothing," I said.

"There is obviously something wrong with you. Now tell me," she demanded. She was not a very happy person. Why couldn't she be more like me? I was happy. I was actually very happy right now. Very, very, very, very happy. I felt like I needed to go and fly. Even though I couldn't, I still wanted to. I just gave Amelie a wide smile.

"Hi," I said, waving. Amelie ignored me (_ignored me!_) and turned to Claire.

"Did he take anything?"

"Take?"

"Consume any type of chemical or drug that would... cause him to act this way."

"I don't think so. Hmm... a drug... Wait." She went to my drawer where I kept my crystals. My yummy, yummy crystals. She took out an empty shaker. "Myrnin, what's this?"

"An empty crystal jar, idiot," I said simply. And she thought _I_ was stupid! Ha!

She dug around for more, ignoring the fact that I'd called her an idiot. Hmph. Usually they say something back, but Claire just didn't mind. Maybe people called her an idiot a lot. Maybe she was used to it. Was she antisocial? "They're all empty!"

"Of course they are," I said. Goodness, this idiot, antisocial girl needed to learn a few things!

"When did you take these?" she asked, still looking for more.

"Just before you got here."

"Myrnin, why did you take your crystals?" Amelie asked seriously.

"Um... I don't remember. Sorry!"

Amelie and Claire just stared at me for a second.

"I suppose we'll just have to wait until the affects wear off," Amelie said calmly.

"Why would he have taken those if he was cured?" Claire asked her.

"I wouldn't know." Then Amelie sat in an armchair. Claire sat on top of the science table with all of my tools and they both stared at me. Why were they doing that? Don't get me wrong, I loved the attention, but this... I wasn't just some animal in a circus!

"What are you looking at?" I snapped.

"You know, this is a waste of my time. I'm going, but Claire, don't leave him. Don't let him out of your sight. Actually, I'll send someone else to help you watch him. He'll be here shortly. Call me when Myrnin gets... better," Amelie said, getting up to leave.

"Hey, where are you going? We were just about to have a picnic!" I shouted. Amelie kept walking away. Hey, the floor wasn't rolling around anymore. She'd taken me off the boat! Maybe she wasn't mad and I wasn't going to Prague. "Thank you!" I yelled. I looked to Claire. "Weren't we going to have a picnic?"

"No, we weren't." She looked annoyed.

"Ahhh!" I screamed. The walls were breathing! What's going on? "Claire! Save me!"

"Save you from what?" she asked, tensing.

"We're in the stomach of a giant animal!"

She untensed and then she rolled her eyes. I hope she knew that if she did that too much, her eyes could be permantly glued to the inside of her head. And would she want that? I don't think so. "Myrnin, we are _not_ inside a giant animal."

I sniffed the air. "Smells like the belly of a pig," I said.

"Myrnin..." Claire groaned and went and sat in the armchair Amelie had just vacated.

"Isn't this exciting, Claire? We're in the belly of a giant pig. Or else... we're really tiny. Oh, Claire! We're really tiny! We're going to be digested and do you know what that means? The only way for us to get out of this pig's system is to be—"

"Myrnin! Shut up!"

I stared at her with my mouth hanging open. That was not very nice. Then we felt another portal coming to existence from behind that door. I went and opened it for whoever it was who was coming in, because I had flawless manners. Maybe it was Amelie again. I had to thank her again for not making me go back to Prague. But guess who stepped out?

Oliver... Stupid, stupid Oliver who will never marry. Oliver who was still a virgin because he was so ugly. Ew. No virgins in my laboratory.

I slammed the door on his face, forcing him backwards and back to where he'd come from. And from the smell of it, he'd just come out of that coffee shop he worked at.

But that got me wondering about all the people who had come in here. Was Claire a virgin? I don't think she was, she didn't smell of it. What about... Samuel? No, no. He'd had that child. Amelie?

All of a sudden, I was being thrown backwards along with the door I'd been holding shut. When I regained my senses, I saw Oliver had kicked down the door. I gaped. He'd have to fix that.

"Oliver!" Claire yelled.

"I'm telling Amelie. She won't be pleased," I said, angrily.

"Be quiet, both of you. I don't have time to be listening to a drugged lunatic and a foolish little girl," Oliver said, sweeping in to my home. _My home_. Amelie had sent this devil spawn virgin into my _home_? This wasn't going to go without complaint!

"I'm not drugged. I just ate too much of something," I argued. "Too much of anything is bad for you, Oliver. Even egos." Oliver shot me a glare.

"Shut up," he said, sitting down in another armchair and rubbing his temple. How dare he tell me to shut up! He just needed to be happy. Him, and Amelie. If only the world were as happy as me.

Aww, I didn't feel as happy as I did before. But that was only probably because Oliver was here.

"So, Amelie told you?" Claire asked.

"Yes."

"She told you Myrnin was high-off-his-ass on some drug we made?"

"Yes, now be quiet. I didn't ask to babysit," he snapped.

"I'm not high," I pouted. Was I? No, I was not at all high. I wasn't tall or up in the air. Wasn't that what Claire meant?

"Yeah, you are," she replied.

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am—"

"SHUT UP!" Laughter erupted in my throat that I just couldn't hold back. They escaped from my lips and I thought I was laughing _too_ much. But, laughter has to always be good, correct? My head felt light and my stomach felt like it was full of wonderful, happy emotions.

Then, with a final bark of laughter, I passed out.

#

"Myrnin?" That was Claire's voice. "Do you think he's going to be okay?"

"He'll come to eventually," Amelie replied. "Did he do anything while he was unconscious?"

"Well, for the first fifteen minutes or so, he was giggling about something. Then he was just... unconscious." What? I didn't giggle. And what was Amelie doing here? I sat up to ask. Oh, dear. My head hurt like a—

"Hey, Myrnin," Claire said.

"Claire." I looked around. I was lying on the floor with my head propped up by a few books. "What happened?"

"You took your crystals, Myrnin," Amelie said sternly. I took my—? Oh yes, I remembered now.

"Yes. I took them to see if they would still have an affect on me. I don't seem to recall what happened in the time I was under the influence of the drugs," I said, scrubbing my face with my hands.

Claire and Amelie shared glances. Something I'd never seen them do before. Did they know something I didn't? They looked back to me.

"I don't think you really want to know what you did," Claire said.

"I think that best. I'll be leaving now," Amelie said calmly, rising and going to the portal door in the back of my lab. I looked and—

Why was the door broken? The door was off its hinges, next to me, I hadn't realized it until now.

"Why is the door broken, Claire?" I asked.

Claire pursed her lips. "Um, long story."

**Hmm... what'd ya think? Sorry about the ending, not very original, but I couldn't think how to end it any differently. Good? Bad? Horrible? Please review, they always make me smile. And I always need a smile!**

**Thanks!**

**And here's one just for you:**

**:)**


	2. Before the Beginning

**Heeey! Okay, I think this was enjoyed enough to make this a multi-chaptered story (as in, like, two or three chapters). I read it yesterday and it made me laugh again, so I think that means I am inclined to write another chapter.**

I had taken the crystals before. Ohhhh yes. Many, many times before. Of course, I had been lying to Claire and Amelie when I'd told them the reason I had taken them. Heh heh heh. Idiots.

And I had much more than Claire and Amelie thought I did. The time Claire had made a batch and left it down here to dry? Yes, I had kept those. Two whole tray full's. Yummy… yummy… yummy.

I shook the strawberry-flavored candy-like things onto the palm of my hand. I dumped them in my mouth and instantly felt the effects of the drugs. I needed some more so my head would be happy. I unscrewed the lid of the jar in my hands and poured all its contents onto my tongue. Mmmm... Tasty.

These were helping me, so they weren't bad. They were like special Myrnin Vitamins. And you couldn't be sick from too many vitamins, right? I reasoned that if I took more, then I would be saner for longer periods of time. Haha, sane... yeah right. But at least I wouldn't be stuck in that black pit. I shuddered. No. Not back there.

I smiled. I laughed. I dropped the empty container on the floor and went over to the trapdoor that led to Ada's cave. She was very funny when she was annoyed. I wondered how long it would take to get her very, very, _very_ angry. Hmm...

I jumped down into the cavity and followed the path I'd traveled many times before to Ada's cave. When I entered her cavern, her machine was whirling. It made me dizzy to think of, but I kind of liked the way the sound was making my essence twirl around my body. I closed my eyes and felt as if all of my insides weren't where they were supposed to be. My brain was rolling down my neck. My stomach felt like it was twisting, but not in an unpleasant way. I laughed again. When I opened my eyes, Ada was three inches away from my own face.

"Ahhhh!" I jumped back from her, startling her a few more inches away. "Oh, it's you, Ada. Lovely. I came to... see you."

"Oh really?" she asked, flattered. Of course she was flattered. What kind of woman would reject me? Certainly not someone who had their wits about them. Only the mental ones refused my charm and sexy charisma.

"What are you doing?" I asked, moving over to the side of the cave, nearer her machine. I sat on the stone floor and leaned my back against the wall, feeling all floaty inside my head.

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that," she said, not exactly modestly.

"Like what?"

"Calling the college graduates and evicting them from their dorms."

"Calling?" I repeated. The word sounded familiar...

"Speaking on the phone, yes."

"AH! I know. I want to call someone," I said.

"Why?" she asked, "It's dreadfully boring."

"_No it's not!_" I shouted. She was taken aback, wondering what was wrong with me.

"Ahh... All right. But you'll need a phone. Mine is built into my system, you aren't connected to my hardwiring so you can't call them without a phone."

"Why?" I asked quietly.

Ada looked at me funny. "I explained it just now, Myrnin."

"You're discluding me from your secret organization, aren't you?" I asked, hurt. I turned my back on Ada, facing the wall now. I covered the sides of my face with my hair so she couldn't see me at all.

Ada was silent. And then, "You took your medication again, didn't you?"

"Why do you want to know? Aren't you too good to be talking to me? Why don't you just go make a blood pact with someone from your _fraternity club?_"

"Well, I don't think there'd be enough people to join the secret organization, because I only know of one person with the ability to completely control Morganville, and that happens to be me. Second, I don't make blood pacts."

I didn't respond. Then the quiet in the room irritated me. I gasped aloud, cutting through the silence like a sharp-edged knife. I held the air in my lungs. I could do this forever. Ha. I'd like to see Ada do this. I always won this game.

"Myrnin, what are you doing?" she asked, coming closer. "Didn't you want to make a call?"

"Oh, yes," I said, forgetting to hold my breath. "I have one here." I pulled my little transportable phone out of my pocket and dialed a *67'd number I had called many times.

"Hello?" Oliver picked up on the first ring.

"Hello? Yes, this is Phlegm Monster again." I cleared my throat loudly. "I'd like to—" clears throat "—order—" clears throat "—sixteen pizzas with—" clear "—several gallons of anchovies and mushrooms—" giant mega clearing (because I actually had something in there that time) "—please." I paused. "Hiiiiiii," I said in a feminine voice, all breathily into the phone. "I'm... Jessimarinagolfbagsauce. I want to know what kind of... _services_ you provide." I had to stifle a giggle. Aww, maybe Claire _was_ right. I think I did giggle. Hmph.

"What?" Oliver protested.

I changed my voice again and spoke into the phone receiver quietly. "I know what you did last summer. I know where the body is and if you don't turn yourself in, I'm going to come down to that little crack house and call the cops on you."

"Whoever this is, this is a traceable number and I'll be able to find out who's on the other end. I don't think you want to continue pestering me with prank calls," Oliver said dangerously.

"Yeah, right," I said, yawning. "You've said that each and every time I've called, but you still haven't done it. So, I guess your bark is louder than your bite. Does that make sense? I hope it does." For one last laugh, I changed my voice yet again and said into the little phone, "Zombies will one day rule the world, and you'll be the last one left because you don't taste good. So long, you virgin." I shuddered before I hung up.

Ada stood, staring with an eyebrow raised. "You've done that more than once, haven't you?"

"Of course," I said merrily. I jumped up and pocketed my phone. Guess where? Heh heh. In my pocket. Pocketed. Pocket. Get it?"  
"Myrnin, you know that you take prescriptions 'as ordered,' don't you?" Ada asked. She was such a negative person. I don't understand why I loved her. Oooh. Would you like some ice with that burn, honey? Bahahahaha!

"Sorry, Ada," I said, apologizing for my internal joke.

"For what? she asked, oblivious to my brain's joke.

"My brain thinks you have some issues. Listen to my brains. Do you know how far in life they got me? Very far." I stopped. "Let's have a moment of silence in memory of my long gone brains." I perked back up. "What a short moment that was! I want to prank call Oliver again."

"Hello?" Oliver answered again, probably hoping it was Amelie. He was having a love affair with her, haven't I told you? Well, almost everybody in Morganville knows. Except them, of course. Well, of course they knew! The "loving activities" were done to them! Hahahaha! But, what I _mean_ is, _they_ don't know _everyone else_ knows they're having it.

"Heeee_llo_," I said like a girl swooning passionately. "It's me."

"Really?" Oliver asked. I, on the other end, was confused. I didn't expect Oliver to say that. Although, it would make one hell of a story!

"Yes. I'm ready," I said, stopping another giggle from escaping.

"You are?" I nodded, but forgot that Oliver wouldn't know. Oliver went on anyway. "That—that's impossible. Last time I asked, you said you wouldn't do it. Ever"

I gaped. "Well," he said, losing a bit of the façade because of the shock he was in, "I… I am."

"All right, I'll be right over." Oliver hung up and I burst out laughing, rolling on the floor.

"BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" I screamed. "_HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA!_"

"Goodness," Ada said, covering her mouth with her hand. She was laughing quietly. "That was… odd."


	3. He's Rapin' Everybody Out Here

I was going to need a little help. I had tried absolutely _everything_, but nothing was working. I was stuck. In between two of his bookshelves. I'd been trying to remember whether I'd hid my cupcake behind this shelf or the other one, but which? So I decided to check both at the same time so I didn't have to look one at a time. That would be so boring. But now, both of my arms were pinned by a bookcase and I was wedged between the two.

I really didn't want to call Ada. She'd make so much fun of me. She loved to tease. And, goodness, she sure would get a kick out of this if she saw me now. But Claire would get angry. Sam would tattle to Amelie. Was there anyone else nice enough to save me? There wasn't a single person in Morganville that cared enough about me to come help.

I felt a tear leak from the corner of his eye.

All of a sudden, the back of the bookcase was pounded on. I had shoved one of the pieces of furniture over the entrance to the portal after the last mishap with my medications...

"Um... I can't exactly get to you at the moment," I called, trying, yet again, to wiggle out.

"Myrnin, I need to speak to you now," Amelie's voice came from the other side of the wall. Damn. Why did it have to be Amelie?

"Would you mind turning around and just driving here in your fancy limo?" I asked, desperately trying to claw my way out.

"Myrnin, it's terribly important and I don't have much time," she said impatiently.

"Well, it will only take you a few minutes to take an alternative route. Morganville isn't that big," I said, stalling.

"Would you just open this?" she asked, trying to push open the door again.

"Why don't you just tell me from where you are?"

"This is ridiculous—" All of a sudden, the bookshelf went flying across the room, books were strewn around the floor. And my arm was free. Amelie came out from the door-less doorway and straightened her top and smoothed her white slacks.

My mouth hung open. Amelie had just smashed my bookshelf. And my unorganized books were even more unorganized now. God, Amelie could be such a—

"What are you doing?" she asked, noticing my other hand that was stuck behind the other bookcase.

"Um... nothing," I said, trying to make my arrangement of limbs natural. But I'm not sure Amelie was convinced.

"Are you stuck?" she asked.

"No," I countered immediately.

"You're stuck, aren't you?"

"No. I just wanted to put my arm behind the bookcase so it couldn't be able to get back out. That's all. It's not stuck." Amelie rolled her eyes. How rude. As if she were all-knowingly omnipotent. She was a very stuck up woman, if you asked me.

"You took your medication again, didn't you?" Why did everyone assume that? Even though I _had_ taken just a _few_ doses... Sure, they were correct, but still...

"Possibly," I said stubbornly.

"How much?" she asked.

"Umm… I don't know." She was angry. Ugh! She was soooo _meeeeeeeeaaaaan!_ I couldn't even get a little high without her getting angry?

I laughed, remembering Oliver yesterday.

"So," I said slyly, "did Oliver come visit you yesterday?"

Amelie looked confused. "Oliver?"

"Yes."

"No," she said, genuinely perplexed.

"You know… the afternoon?"

"No. Why, would he need to tell me something bad you did?"

"No. I was… simply wondering." I was disappointed Oliver wasn't trying to rape Amelie. But, if it wasn't Amelie, what other kind of little girl would Oliver be taking innocence from? I screamed. No!

I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I had memorized by heart. Into the receiver, I yelled, "Claire! Watch out! Lock the doors, lock the windows, hide your kids and hide your wife!"

"Umm… _what?_" she asked from the other end.

"Come on, Claire! Now! If you don't—ugh, I don't even want to start explaining. Claire, Oliver's on the move. Be careful. No, wait. Don't move. I'll be there as soon as I can." I snapped the phone shut and walked past Amelie out of my shack.

"Myrnin? Don't—what?" Amelie asked as she followed me out of my home.

"Go, Amelie. Get backup. We're going to need it. To the Glass House."

"Myrnin, I'm sure we don't need backup for Oliver."

"Yes, we do," I said as we made our way down the block. "You have no idea what Oliver is going to do with Claire if he gets a hold of her."

"What do you mean?" she asked as our stride quickened.

"I _mean_," I said, annoyed that I actually had to explain this to Amelie, "when a mother and a father have a child, the man penetrates the woman's... place with his... intrument." I had to giggle at that one. Then I sobered up again for what I had to say next. "But then, if the girl doesn't want to have a child, or just recreational intimacy, but the male does and tries to do it when she's protesting profusely, it is called, _rape_."

She had stopped listening after _penetrates the woman's..._ and was just staring at me with a mouth slack in horror. Or disgust, but I'd like to think it was horror. Why? Well, one, because it was funny that Amelie didn't know what rape was. Two, because I'd like to think that she gave a damn what happened to Claire.

"Come on," I said running at vampire speed.

Iarrived at Claire's. Amelie was a little behind me.

"CLAIRE!" I burst through the door.

"Yeah?" she asked from her spot at the kitchen table. It looked like they were eating lunch.

I ran over and hugged her. Then I checked to make sure she didn't have any kind of bruises or anything that showed she could have been harmed in any way.

"M-Myrnin? What are you doing?" she asked, her voice muffled because of me checking the inside of her mouth.

"He took his medication again," Amelie called from the front door, waiting to be asked inside like her proper raising had taught her to.

"Oh," Claire said, "that makes sense." I made sure all of her limbs worked. I bent her arms back and forth and rolled her head around.

"Oh, wonderful," I said, smoothing her hair back down, "Oliver hasn't come to terrorize you yet."

"Terrorize?" Claire's little Shane asked from the table, standing up.

"Oh my goodness," I said, "do I have to explain it to _you_, _too_?"

"No, Myrnin," Amelie interrupted just as I started my rape lecture. "You don't need to explain it to Claire."

I sighed and just said, "Yes. Oliver is going to come here and he's going to do horrible things to Claire. Make sure you keep her safe." Maybe Amelie didn't think Claire was mature enough to handle the meaning of rape. Or Amelie was trying to shelter her from the cruelty of the real world.

I sat on the couch and yawned. I put my feet up on the little table that had magazines on it and remotes and newspapers and leaned back in my seat.

"This is quite comfortable," I said, picking up a _Seventeen_ magazine. I flipped through some pages and gasped. "EVE! Did you know that skinny jeans are what's in style?"

After a moment of silence, Eve said, "...Yeah..."

"Well, I think I need to go get some." I set down the magazine and got up. Amelie was staring at me like I had lost my mind. Well, she wasn't all that wrong, was she? "So long." I portaled myself to the nearest thrift shop to go buy some skinny jeans. Purple velvet if they had it, to match my frock coat. Yay.

I love skinny jeans.


	4. His Conscience

Goodness, skinny jeans are _tight!_ I have practically no ball room (if you catch my drift... wink wink) and they totally flatter my butt. I've got pretty good hips, too. Heehee. Drugs... Lalalalalalalalalalala. Sowwy.

Anyways, I must look pretty damn sexy in these things because yesterday, on the public bus, on my way to the hospital to borrow some scalpels, several individuals whistled at me. I understand that women are tabooed in society for whistling at men, so I'm thinking the ones who whistled must have been of the male species. Well... it's still pretty flattering. At least _they_ think I'm hot. H-A-W-T. Hawt. Hot.

Amelie just burst out laughing.

Sniff sniff. It made me so sad.

But Amelie doesn't matter any longer. She has become a woman who doesn't belong on my list of people to like. She belongs on my list of people to harass on the streets when everybody's looking. Just below Oliver... And right before Oliver again. Oliver was on there twice. First, because he was a douche rag. Second, because he was a hippie. Silly hippies, trying to make the world a happy place. And smoking marinjuwhanna. Naughty, naughty.

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. Yes. Marinjuwhanna.

_Myrnin..._

"AHHH! What?"

_Myrnin... Listen to me..._

"_Jesu_," I cursed. "It's the voices again."

_Yes, the voices. Now, Myrnin. You must understand that the drugs you are on now don't make you healthier. _This voice was soft and eerie sounding.

"What? Yes they do. They make me want to smile at the world. Now, if those aren't some good drugs, then I don't know what else is."

A sharp voice cut in, _Well, marijuana—_

The softer voice said, _Oliver! Don't tell him about marijuana—_

A new one with a cold voice said, _Claire, he already knows of it. He—_

The sharp one interrupted, _Guys, we're all saying our names. The only one he hasn't heard is Amelie._

That was the soft one. _Well, nice, Oliver. Now he has_.

"What?" I asked. My conscience was having a conversation. Odd.

The quieter, nicer sounding one said, _Umm... nothing. Go back to reading your book._

"I wasn't reading a book."

The mean one said, _Do something normal._

"Normal?" I was surprised. The voices, of all things, should _know_ that I don't do anything normal.

_Like some crazy experiment. The electricity one you were telling me about earlier_, the nice one said soothingly.

"Hey, I only told Claire of that experiment. How do _you_ know?" How could it know?

Now she sounded like she was being frank with me, _Myrnin, I am your conscience. I know everything about you._

"Really? So... I'm talking to my conscience right now?"

_Yes_.

"Hmm... Really?" I needed proof.

_Yes!_ the mean one shouted.

"Then how long did Queen Elizabeth and I have our secret affair?" Only my conscience would know of that.

_What?_ The soft one sounded surprised.

_It was three months_, came the voice that I had only heard once before. The cold one.

Silence.

_Amelie? How do you know that? _the nice one asked.

_He wouldn't stop bragging_, the cold one replied.

_Oh_, the impatient one said awkwardly.

_Three months_, the nice one answered my question.

"So you _are _my conscience! How very interesting." Oooooh! That's cool.

_Good Lord, he's stupid_, said the cutting one.

"Excuse me?"

_Oliver! The last thing we need is for him to be thinking his conscience called him stupid_, the nice one said. Of course, the nice one would come to my defense.

"Why'd you call me stupid?"

_He didn't_, she reassured me.

"Okay, whatever you say, Conscience." And I believed it.

_Anyway, we need to get to the reason why we're talking to you_, the nice girl said.

_Yes. Finally_, the mean one said.

_Don't take anymore drugs, Myrnin_, she said, ignoring the mean one.

"You've tried telling me that so many times, Conscience. I'm not listening."

_Yes, but we haven't told you the risk of them yet_, the conscience with the sharp, annoyed voice said.

_Yeah. You could get... umm... prostate cancer if you eat any more_, the sweeter one said.

"Vampires can get prostate cancer?"

_Yes_, she said.

_Claire, what's prostate cancer?_ the mean one said. Look who was the stupid one now.

_Oliver...?_ she asked.

_I want to know!_ he cried.

_It's cancer in your..._ she faded away.

_Oh_, the stupid one said.

"Goodness," I said. "All right." I was scared. I didn't want to get prostate cancer! "I'll stop eating them."

_Good. You promise?_

"Of course."

_All right. So long, Myrnin._

"... Good bye. Are we going to have another chat like this later?"

_...Probably not_, the cold one answered.

"Awww. Okay. Bye, Conscience."

_Bye_, the nice one faded out.

#

From the side of the shack in Gramma Day's alley, there was Amelie, Oliver and Claire, speaking into a microphone that produced their voices into Myrnin's home from speakers all around the room Claire had planted a few days before. They'd already made their first appearance just a couple days ago. Along with a second and third. And this was their last.

Claire switched off the microphones and looked at Amelie.

"So, Myrnin bragged to you about his affair with the queen?" she asked.

"He wouldn't stop," Amelie sighed.

Claire turned to Oliver. "And what was that about marijuana?"

"...Nothing."

Claire stood. "I'm going home. Hopefully Myrnin will stop taking those crystals."

"How'd you think of prostate cancer?" Amelie asked.

"Male pride. Myrnin doesn't want anything growing inside his... Okay. I'm going now. Bye."

Amelie smoothed her dress. She walked gracefully out of the alley and got in her limo to go back to her offices. "Good bye, Oliver," she called back.

Oliver stared at the microphone. He switched it on again.

Hahaha.


	5. The Truth Behind Oliver's Pain

**For all of you who were curious who Oliver thought it was on the phone back in chapter 2. This is optional, but I'm sure all of you were just a tad curious. **

**

* * *

**

Hannah was just waking up that morning. She changed into a tank top and gym shorts, regular Saturday attire.

Just as Hannah was pouring orange juice into a plastic cup, a ferocious knocking rattled her apartment door on its hinges. She put the jug of juice on the folding table (who cares if it was cheap? She wasn't going to pay two hundred bucks for a real table) and wondered in her mindless, tired state who it could be this early on a Saturday.

She opened the door, cup of orange juice in hand. She took a swig before seeing who it was.

She spat out her drink on his face and coughed the rest up.

Oliver.

Oliver in his hippie coffee shop clothes.

Hannah splashed the rest of the drink on his head and slammed the door on him. She ran into her kitchen. Hannah grabbed her gun loaded with silver ammo she'd gotten when Myrnin was captured by Bishop that she'd left out lying on the kitchen counter just in case (yeah, she left guns lying around). When she turned around again, Oliver was there, all in her face. And she'd be damned if he got any closer.

Hannah cocked the gun and aimed it at his face.

"No way, Oldie. You already spilled the beans about your little crush on me. And I'm _not_... ew. Just leave," Hannah said, feeling all exposed in a tank top.

"You already said yes," he said in his creepy old voice.

"No, I didn't. I clearly remember telling you to fuck off and stay away from me." She squeezed the trigger.

"You called. Don't deny it."

Hannah pulled the trigger.

Silver powder exploded into a cloud of sparkles all around Oliver's face.

"Arrrggh!" he cried, falling to the floor. He clawed at his forehead where the gun had been aimed. Due to the amount of powder, Hannah heard the sizzling of the old guy's skin. She took the gun and threw it on top of Oliver's chest.

"Yeah, bitch. That's what you get when you mess with me," Hannah said, moving over to the door as Oliver remained on the floor, snarling incoherent words in his pain. She slipped on flip flops and walked out the door, making sure to shut it tight.

#

Hannah went home after a day out, keeping an eye out for a pissed off Oliver. But she didn't see him for the rest of the day. Until she returned home.

Hannah opened the door to her apartment and saw everything was right where it was last. And she meant _everything_. Even Oliver. It hadn't looked like he'd moved since this morning.

Hannah got out the canister containing compressed silver powder from her pocket that she'd just bought at the local convenience store (if you knew the right people, they could hook you up).

"Oliver," she said, moving over to go poke him with her toe. "Are you alive over there?"

"No."

"Would you mind getting out of my apartment? I'm not entirely comfortable with you being here…"

"Why did you call if you were just going to lie to me?"

"I. Didn't. Call. You," she said forcefully. "Now could you get out?" Hannah saw a tear slip out of the corner of his eye. What the—?

All of a sudden, Oliver was in her face, holding her by the shoulders, shaking her back and forth sharply.

"Do you know how long I've been a virgin?" he whispered harshly. Now, if it weren't for such a close proximity and the danger of being sexually assaulted or killed, she would have found that comment freaking hilarious. But...

"Not... really..." she said, stepping away slowly, pointing the canister at his face again.

"Forever. So many people named Restricted have been calling me and telling me I'm so ugly, I'll never get a girlfriend who'd do me." Hannah frowned at his word choice. "Look." Oliver pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and went to the Received Calls menu and showed her.

Wow. 68 calls from Restricted. She wondered if he knew Restricted meant it was a prank call...

"Oliver," Hannah said, pushing his phone out of her face, "I feel bad for you, I really do, but you really need to leave."

"Do you know how much that idiotic druggie Myrnin calls me a virgin? He knows!" he sobbed. "He knows, and I have no comebacks!" Oliver fell to the floor and started crying into her carpet.

"I'm going to call Richard and get him down here. I don't want him to... tranquilize you or anything, so you might wanna leave before things have to get ugly," Hannah said, taking her phone off the stand and pressed the first number.

"Why'd you call me ugly?" Oliver screamed. "Even you hate me!"

"Oh my God," Hannah muttered to herself. To Oliver she said, "I'm going to call Myrnin and tell him what you're doing."

"Fine," he murmured into the carpet. "I have nothing else to live for."

This was _so_ not the Oliver Hannah knew took children from their rooms in the middle of the night and boiled them for breakfast. This was a toddler who didn't know how to deal with the harsh reality of life: some people are born pretty. Others... they're not as fortunate. Oliver was an unfortunate guy. He was cursed.

"Fine." Hannah dialed Myrnin's number and the crazy guy picked up on the fourth ring.

"Helloooooo?"

"Myrnin? Hey, this is Hannah. Oliver's over at my place and we need you to come over to work some things out. Oliver's in need of a therapy session because you're bullying him about being a virgin."

Myrnin burst out laughing. When he calmed down enough to talk, he choked out, "Well, I'm very busy at the moment. But if you could call back later, then I—"

"No," Hannah said seriously. "Now. He came over this morning, thinking I had called and he's still here, crying into my floor. Get your crazy ass down here before I talk to Amelie about you two."

"I—okay."

"Good."

He hung up.

All of a sudden, something went through the room and Myrnin was stepping out of her wall. Hannah blinked.

"Oh. My. God."

"Don't ask," Myrnin said, stumbling into the living room, catching her shoulder to keep himself from falling. He steadied himself. Hannah was an officer. And she knew a drugged man when she saw one. Even if he _was_ a vampire.

Hannah stepped away and got her folding chair next to her cheap table. "Here," she said, setting it beside Myrnin, "sit."

"Thank you, milady," Myrnin said, tipping an invisible hat. Then he nearly collapsed into the chair. His head tipped back and he stared at the ceiling with his mouth forming a wide smile. "I see stars."

"He took his medication," Oliver grumbled from the corner he'd crawled into after Myrnin's appearance.

"Obviously _some_ kind of medication," Hannah said. "What is it?"

"Heh heh heh," Myrnin laughed, "crystals."

"C'mon, Myrnin. What was it? A minor drug? Something big? Marijuana? Crack? Meth? Mushrooms?"

Myrnin sat up straight. He looked at her with a confused look on his face. "Mushrooms?"

* * *

**Myrnin's POV**

Goodness. This little human was terribly dim. How in the world could mushrooms be something that could make me as happy as I was now? I've always hated mushrooms. They're disgusting. My mother had _always_ made me finish all of the mushrooms on my plate and each time I ate one, I'd gag. Mother said that I was putting on a show, but why would I do that? I'm not the one who likes the spotlight shining on them, really. No, I'm not always the center of attention. I don't need to be the one who everyone's always looking at. That center stage was for conceited people who were narcissistic. I wasn't one. And I never would be.

"Yes," Hannah said. "Mushrooms are a drug that make the walls talk to you."

"My dear official," I said kindly, "I think _you_ are the one on drugs. You're speaking of mushrooms and talking walls."

"Never mind," she said, rolling her eyes. _Why did everyone do that?_ "But the reason I needed you here was because of Oliver."

"Oliver? What's he doing in Ada's cave? He's not supposed to be in here!" I shouted. How dare he. He wasn't allowed to trespass upon my property. Or Ada's. Where was that bastard? I looked around. Aha... there were swirling colors...

"Myrnin!" Hannah clapped her hands in front of my face. I jumped and nearly had a heart... attack. A vampire heart attack? "Ya there?" She waved her hand in my line of vision.

"Yes, dear?"

"I called you because I thought you were going to be able to get Oliver out of here."

"Oh no, Hannah, dear. I have no power over that virgin whatsoever. He is his own person. I'm not responsible for his virginally, day to day activities."

"See?" Oliver shouted from his corner.

"What, are you upset I called you a virgin?" I called to him.

"You always do that, and it hurts my feelings!"

"Goodness," I said, "I didn't know it would aggravate you this much. Virgin."

"Pompous corpse defiler," he muttered.

"Virgin."

"Insane communist."

"Virgin."

"Mad scientist."

"Why, thank you." What a compliment! I was mad, wasn't I? And I was certainly a scientist.

"Guys..." Hannah interrupted.

"Madam?" I turned to look at her impatiently tapping her foot on her floor.

"You're here so you two can talk out your issues," she said. Her foot went tap, tap, tap. Tap.

Tap...

"Gracious no," I scoffed. "If we were to... 'talk out' our issues, I would be rambling on and on until you couldn't stand anymore. See, Oliver isn't the most valued person in Morganville. Nor does he qualify for friendship in many peoples' mindsets."

"Myrnin..." she sighed, rubbing her forehead, "you may be right, but Oliver needs you to stop calling him a virgin because if he doesn't... He's going to traumatize people."

Realization flooded into my brain. And it burned. Oh, goodness me, it burned! Oliver had tried to rape _Hannah!_ Not Amelie. Not Claire. But... Hannah. My mouth hung open, my eyes bugged out of my head. I pointed to Oliver, and then to Hannah. And then I made a circle with my index finger and my thumb with my left hand, and my index finger on my right hand went in and out of the circle. The slightly visual sign for sexual intercourse in this modern century.

Hannah sprayed my hands with an aerosol can of something. Either holy water, or silver, because it stung like a—

"Myrnin!" Hannah said, embarrassed and shocked at the same time. She slapped my hands apart as I just stood there, surprised and hurt.

"So it was you Oliver tried to rape."

"It wasn't rape. She called and said—never mind," Oliver said from his corner.

I felt a slow smile creep across my face. It had been me. I had caused all of this. Haha, this made me laugh. And, goodness, I laughed until there were tears leaking out of my eyes.

Hannah seemed it was appropriate to spray me with the can again. And this time, she sprayed my face.

I cried out in pain and fell to the floor. I rolled on her smelly carpet, rubbing my face, trying to make the burning go away. I couldn't believe she'd do that! She was going to mess up my face! If there was even one scar left, Chief Moses was going to be sued.

"Curses!" I cried. "Is this really what I deserve for a prank call?"

"_It was you!_" they both shouted, menacing looks crossing their faces.

"Uh-oh…" It seemed my time here was done. "Bye!" I summoned a portal and escaped through it before Hannah could spray me with any more silver.


	6. Bare Naked

**Okay, new chapter. Different scene. No more Oliver. Myrnin got angry because he was in his story.**

* * *

I woke up with the worst headache imaginable. Honestly, I probably hadn't had such a bad one since King John was being a tyrant up in England.

That's when I noticed the breeze. Yes, _breeze_.

I was naked. Stripped entirely of any covering whatsoever.

Now, some women—very well, _many_ women—would enjoy seeing me this way. But I felt vulnerable. Almost as if the smallest of winds would end my existence.

Well, I had come into this world unclothed. That's the way I should leave it, yes?

I smelled something. Not just anything. Something that didn't belong in my lab. An out of place smell.

Fried chicken. What in the world?

The flash of energy coursed through the room that was all too familiar. Then there came a knock at my door. The portal door.

Amelie.

"Amelie?" I called, making sure that it was her.

"Yes, Myrnin, it is I," came her powerful voice. I looked around to see if I could find a distraction that could block the door. I had apparently taken too long, because she then said, "Myrnin, let me in."

"I—can't let you in."

"And why not?" she said, sounding impatient. She seemed impatient an awful lot these days.

"Er... Because!" I got up and ran to my closet, realizing it had been a very long time since I had last run around in the nude. I opened my closet filled with clothes that I'd retained after so many years of being fashionably aware and sensitive. I grabbed the first thing I saw and dressed so quickly I seemed to fall into the giant fat suit.

...Fat suit?

What the hell?

I looked in the full-length mirror near the back of my lab just as Amelie began to knock again.

It was that suit the dark child had gotten me for All Hallows Eve. She had gotten me the red fat suit for the occasion, but I had picked it out for scaring the children with. Yes, scaring. For I had done some research on this Santa character that children seemed to worship and adults seemed to dread. He was a stalker. A creeper, a prowler, tracker, follower, lurker—

"Myrnin! I'm not going to wait any longer!"

Was that Amelie? My, that woman had a wonderful vocal range and she hardly ever used it. Only for yelling. Well, I've heard her hum a verse or two of things in my long time of knowing her, but... I've never heard her participate in a choir or heard her do a solo. Mostly for yelling, though.

If only she cared for me. By George, I swear, that woman never seemed to give a damn.

A tear fell out of the corner of my eye for a reason unknown to me.

Then I was confused.

What was I doing just staring at myself in a fat suit, crying, and being insane again? I had no time for that! I had business to do.

I shook off my craziness, regained my lucidity, found my center of gravity, and refocused on the hard knocking of Amelie's fist on the door that controlled the portals that I had repaired after the first few mishaps.

I went over to open the door, hearing many "Myrnin!" choruses being shouted at me from Amelie's muffled voice. Oh, if only you could silence that lady.

Just when I had my hand on the door knob, I was blasted backwards. I had been lifted up off my feet and thrown backwards by a force of some sort.

"Myrnin? Myrnin, is that you? I'm sorry!" A feminine voice reached my ears, bringing me out of my dizziness. A small hand touched mine and then the door was lifted off of my face.

"Is my face hurt?" I asked, not entirely present. Was it all right? Was my face okay? Nothing could ever happen to my face... There would be no point in living if my face was ruined.

"Your... face? What are you wearing?" she asked in horror as she saw me closely.

"...Nothing," I said, opening my eyes.

I sat up, looking into the eyes of an angel...

Wait. No. That was Amelie.

Ew! I just said Amelie was an angel! For shame...

I stood up quickly, covering up the blush forming coming from the thought of Amelie being an angel and walked in the direction of the fried chicken smell that did not belong in my lab. When I came upon the table that the chicken had been set on, I nearly fell down again.

It was stacked in a crude-looking pyramid on top of my table to the ceiling. Yes, the _ceiling_. I looked at the handiwork of the pyramid someone had created. My, my... if the Egyptians could see this now, they would go crazy and stab the creator. ...Hopefully I hadn't made this pyramid.

I shook my head quickly, ridding myself of the digression I had made. I focused and tried to remember what I had been thinking about before... Oh yes. There was a lot of chicken. The quantity, not the appearance of the pile.

Anyway, had I really ordered this much?

I heard tiny footsteps behind me. Who would be entering my lab without permission?

I turned around quickly and tried to trip the intruder so they landed on their face, but they caught my arm, twisted me around and threw me to the floor.

"Myrnin!"

All I could see was the threadbare rug. "Owwwww!" I whined.

"What were you thinking?" That voice... Amelie. Crap.

"I thought you were breaking in!" I complained. What the hell! Who was she to just push me around like that? "Lemme up!"

Amelie took her shoe off my back and I jumped up, dusted myself off and got out my cellular device. I dialed Claire's number and she picked up quickly.

"Myrnin, what?" My, she was not happy.

"Quick!" I yelled, "Amelie has injured herself and is now seizing on the floor on my lab!" I shut the phone quickly so Amelie could not protest. When I looked back up she looked torn between gazing in awe at all of the fried chicken there was piled on my table, and glaring at me for lying to Claire. So she was speechless, too.

All of a sudden, a portal was being opened and the dark Eve girl fell out and onto the floor. Then the newest vampire, Michael, was pushed through as well and caught himself in time to not crash onto Eve. I wish I could do that! He had amazing reflexes!

A tear slipped out of my eye because I was so jealous of Michael.

Wait... I could do that, too. I grinned. I was so silly sometimes!

Claire fell through, not able to catch herself and then that boy of hers came tumbling after. I laughed.

And laughed... and laughed... and laughed.

Until Amelie smacked me. Yes, _smacked_ me.

* * *

**This episode of _Crystalline Myrnin_ isn't over yet. Don't worry. I have more planned, my pretties...**

**:)**

**...Wait... sorry. **

**Anyway, review if you want the next chapter to be done within the month.**

**Y'all MUST go check out work by Lunamoon2012.**

**Mmmkay?**

**Mmkay.**

**Especially, "Barty Needs Air." It's pure crack and if you thought this was funny, it wasn't ANYTHING compared to what that story is. Now, off with you, go on, get! ...And you'd BETTER review it. Or else. **

**Oliver will find you.**

**O_O**


	7. Amelie Needs Drugs and Chicken

**'Kay. This is the continuation of chapter 6.**

* * *

"Myrnin! What is going on? I come here and find you in a Saint Nicholas outfit and see enough fried chicken on your dining table to feed all of Europe six times over!"

Claire, Eve, Shane, and Michael had just finished gathering themselves and were making their way over to Amelie and me next to the pile of chicken. But they stopped short when they heard the collision of Amelie's palm on my cheek.

I just stopped laughing. My, Amelie needed some of my drugs. Maybe then she'd understand what true happiness was.

She needed therapy.

But we all sat down and had a delicious fried chicken dinner.

Okay, so that's not how it ended. Sometimes I just wanted us to be a normal family, but that, apparently, was too much to ask.

"So, what are we here for, if Amelie isn't seizing on the ground, Myrnin?" Claire asked.

"You are to eat the chicken," I said, pointing at the pile.

Claire and her friends all stared. "W-whaa?"

"Yes. Now sit and eat."

Shane shrugged and plopped down next tot he table, picking up a box of the stuff saying, "Fine with me, man. I was hungry anyway."

"Yeah," Eve said, "but you didn't want to make yourself a damn sandwich."

"Please, no profan—" I started.

"No, I fucking didn't!" Shane cursed back, stuffing his mouth with a drumstick.

Amelie spoke up. "Myrnin," she said, "goodbye." And then she left through the, once again, broken portal door.

I waved sadly, wondering why she didn't want any chicken then looked at Claire. She was biting her lip, surveying the pyramid of food.

"What did you do to it?"

"Nothing," I said, struck that Claire would ask.

She gave a skeptical look then glanced at Michael and Eve. "What do you guys think?"

"I think," said Eve, "that I'm pretty hungry myself." And she sat down to eat. Michael then shrugged and seated himself next to Eve.

I smiled contently at them.

Now, I had never had much of a taste for chicken, so I left to explore the Glass House while they were eating.

**…**

Carrying seven packs of Coca-Cola was not easy. It was actually quite challenging trying to open the portal system as I was holding them all at the same time. But I did it. Yes, I did.

And when I entered the lab, everyone was gone. Except that one boy. Shane. He was lying on my floor, his stomach bulging. Hm. Fascinating.

I wondered where everyone was. Maybe... they had gone to the store to get some food.

I shrugged. I honestly didn't care.

I set down the Coke boxes and opened one, nearly inhaling the first beverage. It was so good. And sugary. My, how this generation loved their sugar.

I sat in my favorite armchair and pulled up a foot stool and stared at the seven boxes of the drink.

Ahhh... this was going to be fun.

* * *

**Now, review. Or else, I give the cue for the flying penguins to attack.**


	8. Therapeutic Myrnin

**New idea:**

**Myrnin is no longer under the influence of his special Vitamin M. He is now going to therapy with Oliver, Morley, Monica, Claire, and Amelie. Sound crazy? It is. It really, really is...

* * *

**

"Myrnin?" Amelie's voice came through the receiver of my cellular device.

"Yes?" I asked, mixing a bowl of apples and cinnamon and other miscellainious ingredients to make an apple pie.

"You need to come to the Counsel Room now," she said, getting to the point.

"Amelie... I'm in the middle of making a _pie_," I whined.

"Please, Myrnin. This is important."

"Fine. But guess who's not getting any pie?" I paused for the effect. "You."

"Fine." And that was the end of that quick conversation.

**...**

I arrived in the Counsel room without major difficulty. I had only run into an old woman, sending her groceries flying into the air and scattering themselves all over the sidewalk. Stupid groceries. They should know that they shouldn't have gone flying everywhere for that old woman to clean. It's mean of them.

But, I eventually knocked on the grand door and opened it with its hinges squeaking loudly. Amelie really needed to get these fixed so I could sneak into super duper special counsel meetings without being detected when I'm uninvited. You know, they did that an awful lot. Not invite me to special, important meetings, I mean. Sad face.

When I entered I was surprised to see Claire, Oliver, Morley, and Monica (who was filing her nails) sitting on one side of the long conference table while Amelie and Theo Goldman sat on the opposite side.

"Welcome, Myrnin," Amelie said in a serene, quiet voice that did not suit her at all, "to the circle of peace."

I stopped dead. What had she just said?

"The... the what?" Was I in some kind of alternate universe? A sick, twisted parallel of an already sick, twisted world? A nightmare?

Theo spoke. "Amelie," he said, "go sit on the other side of the table. You're not anything special at the moment. You are all patients, and I am the doctor."

Amelie's eyebrows furrowed and she pouted, storming out of her chair and plopping herself down in another one on the opposite side of the table next to Monica.

When Amelie had finished her show, Theo said, "Myrnin. Next to Amelie if you will." I shook my head quickly. Amelie looked angry, and I didn't want to be seated next to her when she was angry. "Fine," he said, "next to Claire." I surveyed Claire and saw she didn't seem upset or PMS-y. I nodded and sat myself to the left of my assistant.

"As Amelie was saying, Myrnin," Theo stated, "welcome. I am your therapist. As I am for all of you," he said, speaking to everyone in the room.

"Wait, wait, wait," Morley said in his indecent, gruff accent. "You called me over for _this_, Amelie?"

Amelie sat up from her slouch and nodded, regaining her icy power and control. "Yes, Morley, you street beggar."

"Street beggar?" he spat. "I'll show you street beggar!"

"Whoa, Morley," Claire said from beside Myrnin. "Chill. You couldn't take on Amelie if you tried."

"I COULD TOO!"

"Sit down, Morley. You're nothing but a pitiful rat," Oliver chimed in.

"Look who's talking," I muttered.

Monica spoke up in her seat from where she was manicuring her nails, "Shut UP, fools!"

"STOP!" Theo yelled. "This is exactly why all of you need therapy!"

Monica stood suddenly. "Excuse me?" she sneered. "_I_ need therapy?" She threw her nail filer down on the table and it tumbled over in front of me. "Screw you for making me come here, you fucking cuntwad!*****" she shouted to Amelie. My mouth dropped open in horror. Monica had just called Amelie a... a horrible word. "And you! You aren't going to give me therapy. And I'm _soooo_ not going to be in the same room as geek girl," she said, throwing an accusing finger at Claire.

"Sit down," Theo said firmly and in a voice the child could not deny. She sat down, still fuming but looking scared of the vampire at the same time.

I had remained quiet. But then I looked at Monica's nail filer with curiosity and picked it up without her seeing. I moved the sand paper material my index finger and watched as the jagged ends disappeared and turned into a smooth, clean edge. I quickly finished the rest of my nails, marveling at how wonderful the finished product was.

"Fascinating," I murmured, inspecting the finished nails closely. They were beautiful!

"Myrnin," Theo said, "put it down." It seems my therapist didn't want me to be happy. Maybe I should just go back to Vitamin M...? Vitamin M wanted me to be happy. Yes they did. They loved me. Unlike this cruel fellow sitting across from me.

I pouted and put the filer down on the conference table.

* * *

***Whoa, Monica, such language is so wonderfully profane! Please, refrain yourself or I shall have to call the Foul-Mouth Police. And your level of wonderful in this story is just too much. Tone it down a few notches, please.**

**...**

**Flying Penguinz does not condone the usage of such foul-mouthedness.**

**...**

**Nor the liking of Monica.**


	9. Oliver and His Wrinkles

"Amelie called, telling me about her hardships and struggles with you, Myrnin," Theos said. I stopped and shot a look of strong disliking over to the other end of the table where Amelie sat. She stuck her tongue out at me and looked instantly in the other direction. "And so I decided I'd hold a therapy session with you. But then Amelie also suggested that Oliver also be present for the help. So I invited Oliver to tag along."

"You _what_?"

"Yes," he said, "the original group members for this therapeutic rehab were you, Oliver and Amelie."

"Why did Amelie even _think_ I would spend an afternoon with that fool?" Oliver hissed. "I can hardly prevent myself from ripping out the espresso machine and throwing it at him when the fool enters my coffee shop."

"Oh, Oliver," I said, "don't try to save face now. You lost it centuries ago."

"Why you—"

"Most amazing in the whole world? Yes, that is I. Thank you, Oliver," I said, enjoying torturing him.

Dr. Goldman cut in. "Enough." When we stopped bickering, he continued, "As I was saying, it was by Amelie's request that you are here."

"Who does Amelie think she is, calling for _both_ of us to be in the same room? She knows how much we hate each oth—" Oliver started.

"_Don't_ talk about me as if I'm not here," Amelie hissed in a tone with a personality far from her own.

I stared, my expression going somewhat close to the likes of this: **O_O**

"No one was speaking about you like you weren't here, Amelie," Theo said calmly.

"What about me?" Monica asked flippantly. "Why am _I _here?"

Theo thought about it for a second, wondering how much to tell her. Then he said, "Claire—"

"Excuse me," Monica snarled in a tone I never, ever wanted to hear from a woman's mouth again, "I said _me_. _Not_ Claire. _Not_ anyone else. ME."

Theo seemed to be used to dealing with hormonal women, because he just said, "I was getting to that." And then he stared her down until her seething stopped. He continued, "After deciding Myrnin was to have therapy, Amelie decided Claire could come in for a session or two so she could suggest some things we could work on with Myrnin. When Claire told your brother, Richard Morrell, he requested that you be put into this group as well, Miss Morrell," Theo said, resting his chin on laced fingers.

Monica looked simply outraged. "Well I refuse," she said.

"Sit down, you idiot," Oliver drawled in a yuppie English accent.

"Make me."

Oliver threw a glass of water on Monica's face.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" she yelled, her screech reaching a glass-rattling pitch. A hiss sounded, and then steam rose from Monica's body to swirl up in the air above her. "My world! My world..." She was crying out, reaching for nothing as she shrank into a puddle on the ground.

When the mayor's sister was nothing more but a pile of sopping clothes, accessories, and a blond wig, Claire cleared her throat. "If I had known that would have worked sooner, I _totally_ would have done that."

"Claire," Theo chastised, "please." He sighed. "Now with one member of our group gone... we can't play the Mafia game I had all planned out."

"You know how to play Mafia?" Claire asked with a skeptical brow raised.

Theo smiled. "Of course. Who doesn't?"

"Oooh," I said. "I want to know!"

"Too bad," Theo said. "Oliver ruined it for everybody." I shot a cold look Oliver's way and the man just seemed to reek of arrogance, oldness, and moldy cheese. Theo cleared his throat loudly. "Shall we start?" It was rhetorical. I had enough tact to know. But I was still angry when he said we were going to start without hearing an answer. "Myrnin, go ahead. You start."

Although, he _did_ ask me to talk first, so for that I gave him points.

"Start with what?" I asked, having never been in a therapy session.

"Just... anything. Talk about what you feel."

"I feel... I feel mad that Oliver ruined the game for everyone."

"What else? Just tell me everything?"

"Everything?" Oliver interrupted. "If he's to list everything that's been upsetting him for the last six centuries, I'm going to go completely insane!"

"Hush, Oliver," Theo said.

"Anyway, as I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted by an old git, I feel mad that Oliver had to ruin things for everyone. I feel hurt that Amelie loved Samuel more than I. I feel upset that Claire finds me less interesting now that I'm not clinically insane."

"Myrnin, you were far beyond clinically insane. You were... _impaired_ by your insanity," Claire said.

"Claire, you're not making any sense. Why aren't you being coherent in this land of therapy?" Theo shook his head, motioning that I continue as he jotted down notes on a pad of paper. I shrugged, complying. "Ummm... I'm upset that Oliver's so old. I mean, Oliver's the oldest of the vampires in Morganville, physically. He's got wrinkles. _Wrinkles_, I tell you!"

"And why does it upset you that Oliver has wrinkles?"

**[6 hours later]**

"And that is why I dislike Oliver and his wrinkles," I concluded proudly. By the time I had finished, everyone had gone to the bathroom at least three times, gotten up to get a drink, and interrupted all but eighty times each. Morley had fallen asleep in his chair and was drooling on the table.

Oliver had cried.

Theo nodded thoughtfully. "Wonderful, Myrnin," he said to me. "That was just about the best speech I've ever heard about Oliver and his wrinkly-ness."


	10. Oliver's Chastity Belt

When everybody had gotten themselves collected after my impressive slamming of Oliver, it was somebody else's turn to talk.

I didn't like sharing.

"Oliver, why don't you tell us all what's on your mind," Theo said.

I didn't like sharing _especially_ when it came to Oliver.

I started, "I don't think that's such a good id—" Oliver obviously saw he was above me in that very moment, for he cut me off then. Claire rolled her eyes at the display of testosterone in my gaze that was looking deep into his heart—for Oliver had no soul to look into.

"Myrnin, I'm _going_ to speak, whether you like it or not. So why don't you take what you say"—his voice went from the soft, underlying tone of hatred to openly threatening—"and shove it up your _arse_."

I raised a hand quickly. "Theo! Oliver shouldn't be allowed to say that to—"

Theo sighed, immediately silencing any further comments from me. "Oliver will say what he wants to when he has the sock." Theo handed Oliver a sock. "This is the Talking Sock."

"I want a Talking Sock," I heard Jason murmur from the end of the table.

"How come _I_ didn't get the Talking Sock?" I whined. It wasn't fair Oliver got the Talking Sock and I did not. It _wasn't _fair!

"Myrnin," Theo said, sending me a cutting glare. "Let Oliver speak."

Amelie spoke up from where she was slouched, bored in her seat as she was knitting a blanket with a purple kitten design on the front. "Wouldn't it be more effective if we all just go home, get some rest and—"

"Amelie?" Dr. Goldman asked, "who is the therapist, and who are the ones being treated?" She hushed up and slid further down her chair.

"Well," Oliver asked, examining the Talking Sock absently. "Where should I start?"

"Anywhere," Theo said kindly.

I muttered under my breath about the ramifications of Oliver being a vampire, pot-smoking hippie, _and_ a douche at the same time as he shared about his long, strife-filled life that involved maidens who didn't find him the least bit attractive, ogres that asked Oliver what ogre clan he was from (because he was _that, _damn ugly), and other things that were equally ridiculous and yet so hilarious at the same time.

Until I thought, _I wonder if Oliver has a penis and a vagina at the same time? Would he be able to impregnate himself accidentally? _

All dignity was lost as I spewed out a sip of water all over the filthy man who seemed to complain as if there were no tomorrow.

"OLIVER!" I blurted, "HAS A PENIS _AND_ A VAGINA!"

Claire looked at me like I was crazy. _Claire… we've been _over_ this._

Jason barked a laugh.

Amelie spluttered wordlessly. Did she not know that I knew what those words meant? I was a grown man. Of _course_ I knew what such words were.

And that was when Oliver attacked me.

I suppose I knew it was coming. Eventually. I just never knew when he would man up enough to try to throw a punch my way.

Oliver leapt out of his seat, his—oddly—perfectly manicured fingernails barely missing the edge of my shirt. I could nearly feel the rage radiating off of him and it made me feel invincible, for some weird reason.

As all hell was being set loose, it was as if I could see it in slow motion—everything in perfect detail.

Oliver was reaching for my throat with a fiery look in his eyes.

Theodosius Goldman was trying to grab Oliver.

Claire was turning up the volume on her little pink device so that I could hear the little bass instruments.

Jason was carving his name into the table with a little pocketknife.

Amelie was shouting my name with a very mean-looking face that would have been intimidating if I hadn't been looking at her through my slow motion experience thing. It just looked a little bit as if she were the slow child in the group.

And then lightning flashed, blacking out the room, even causing my vision to go blank for a few moments.

I suppose I hadn't realized that my eyes were closed because when I opened them, the lights were on again and everyone was back in their seats, looking as if nothing had happened.

"What also annoys me about Amelie is the fact that whenever I try to speak to her, she's knitting." Oliver pointedly gestured to Amelie who was knitting furiously, a flush high in her cheeks, and her eyes flashing red. "And it's always the same design. A kitten."

Was I the only one who had experienced that?

_What in tarnation?_

Claire sighed which led to Jason rolling his eyes and saying, "Thanks for that, Claire. It's not like we haven't heard that about fifteen thousand times before."

"Okay!" Theo said, clapping his hands and breaking into the tense air. "LET'S PLAY MONOPOLY." I instantly forgot what happened prior to the neat arrangement of bodies instead of the rift in the underworld leading into the therapy room.

"No," Amelie said, folding her arms across her chest.

"Amelie," I hissed, shooting her a glare. "You will NOT ruin this game like Oliver did for mafia. If you do, I _swear_, you won't live to see the next lunar eclipse."

"Doc?" Jason asked, cleaning his nails with his pocketknife. "Therapist equals _'the rapist.'_ How does that make you feel?"

"And what else makes me upset," Oliver added, completely oblivious to how nobody else was paying attention to him, "is how Myrnin calls me a virgin all the time. And how he sends me a key with a note that always says, _I think **this**is the one to your chastity belt. I'm sorry you haven't gotten it open after all these years._" He wiped away a tear. "It always makes me cry."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Claire and Jason passing notes on a piece of paper, their last comment reading, _And that's why I would screw the Little Mermaid._


	11. Amelie the Centuar

I leaned back in the comfortable chair I'd been sitting in since... whenever. I checked the clock and saw 5:29. Was it morning or night? There were no windows in the room, so I could not be sure. Was this Amelie's way of keeping us in here forever without us ever knowing if it was day or night? Were we never to leave? What if we slept? When we woke, would Amelie tell us we'd only slept for a minute or so when it'd actually been twelve hours? We'd fall asleep at 10:47 to awaken at 10:48—BUT WE'D NEVER KNOW IF IT WAS A.M. OR P.M.! Would Amelie do that to _me_? Would Amelie be as cruel as to leave her dearest friend in such a state where he'd never know the true date again? Was she a _centaur?_

I honestly couldn't help look at Amelie with a slight scowl whenever she glanced at me. I homed in on the ticking sound of the clock above our heads that was hanging over the doorway. The little ticking noises echoed around in my ears and I began to sweat under the tension in the room. My eyes swiveled around in their sockets from person to person to see if they felt the same as I did, or to see if they were in league with the centaur Founder.

_Oh, God, she's going to kill us all. I knew I never should have came to this stupid meeting. I was making a _pie_ for God's sake! _

"Myrnin!"

_Shit, I can hear them in my head. They've invaded my mind. GET THEM OUT!_

"Myrnin, seriously, if you're not going to participate, you might as well sit in the corner under the Rainbow Painting of Great Disgrace."

_Oh, dear Lord, I don't want to go sit under the Rainbow Painting of Great Dis—wait. Does that sound wrong to anyone but me? Rainbow... of Great Disgrace. How the hell does that work?_

Being nothing but utterly confused at the moment, I had no time to wonder who was talking to me. Nor did it come to mind that I needed to respond so I could avoid the Rainbow Painting of Great Disgrace.

"Now, Myrnin," said a voice in my mind quite similar to Theo's, "this is getting ridiculous."

I looked up to see everyone staring at me. _We're we at a _meeting_? I _love_ meetings!_

But then my dastardly mind did the most terrible thing: it made me remember.

"_OH, FOR THE SAKE OF ALL THAT'S TO DO WITH LIQUOR, I'VE BEEN CAUGHT IN THE HARLOT HOUSE AGAIN, HAVEN'T I?_"

Everyone shrank back into their chairs.

**8==D~**

**(Oh, jeez, that wasn't supposed to make its way into this story.)**

"Myrnin, you are subject to a therapeutic rehabilitation," Theo said calmly and very politely. I must say, I adored that man's manners. He was quite a gentleman.

Oh, _God_, was I making googly eyes at him? I did _not_ mean to do that.

"I'm _so_ sorry, Theo. I honestly did not mean to make lovey-dovey eyes at you. I would _never_. It was so _very _wrong of me." I slammed my hand over my heart as if the unintended action had wounded me.

Claire's brows were raised. "_What_?"

I looked at her incredulously. "You didn't see that?"

She shook her head with an angry expression, I believe. "No, I didn't." She turned to Theo. "Do you see what I have to work with?"

Theo nodded once, as if sending Claire a message. I think, though I'm not quite sure, for I only studied psychology for a few weeks back in Paris, that I could interpret Theo's nod as a sign of acceptance, a gesture of submission, a _Don't worry, I'm going to put Myrnin in the corner under the Rainbow Painting of Great Disgrace soon_, or a _Let's all have ice cream!_

I rested my chin upon my palm. This was going to be a difficult decision. Perhaps it was a mixture of all three? Maybe Theo was accepting Claire's comment on my behavior at the lab, was going to submit to her anger and allow her to manhandle me, put me in the corner under the Rainbow Painting of Great Disgrace, and then go out for ice cream without me.

_WHAT? _

Unacceptable.

"I'm sorry. I really am. Please, don't go out for ice cream without me."

Jason rolled his eyes and heaved an impressive sigh. "Damn, why do I _hate_ vamps so much?" He raked his hands through his hair as I looked at him oddly. How could he hate me? Oh… It hit me. I believed I knew the answer.

"You see, Jason," I said, "you think all of us are complete arseholes. And we're really not. It's just, the majority of us are European. And you're… well, not. You're jealous of our accents."

Claire popped me one on the back of the head.

I adjusted my monocle—where it came from, no one knows—and gasped, "I must say! What do you _think _you're doing, Claire? You can't just _hit_ a kind gentleman on the head—"

Amelie glared at me and I stopped instantly and looked away. She may turn me into a centaur with her glare. I shuddered and scooted my chair in the other direction.

Theo sighed and sat back in his chair, folding his hands and tapping his foot in a steady rhythm.

And suddenly, I was brilliantly enlightened.

"IT'S CLAIRE!" I shouted as I stood from my chair, pointing at the seemingly innocent teenage girl. "SHE'S WORKING WITH AMELIE! OUR FOUNDER'S A _CENTAUR!_"

Theo's eyes grew quite wide and whispered something to Amelie. Was he a centaur as well? Oh, bullocks, not him, too!

"TALLYHO! FOR MORGANVILLE! AND ASLAN!"

And I tackled him. But for good reason! I was trying to _save_ Morganville! And Aslan!

**Later...**

Now I sit in a psychiatric ward just a hundred or so miles outside of Morganville.

There are some fine people in this place, mind. There's a lovely woman who's about five-and-sixty years who believes she's Mary Magdalene Incarnate. If that's not insane, I don't know what is. But she's really very kind if one gets to know her.

There's another boy who's six or so and he thinks he lived through "Wood Stack" or something like that. I'm not entirely informed on the subject, but it had something to do with Cannabis and tie-dye and hippies. He reminds me of Oliver, so I kindly stay away from him. I sort of left him a… marmot in his bed last night—but it's only because he reminds me so much of Oliver, I couldn't resist. And they're both power-hungry idiots.

Oh, and a woman I visit often is named Chewbacca. We have tea together.

Amelie and the rest come to see me three times a week to continue our little 'therapy' sessions, but I don't enjoy their presence. The people in this psychiatric ward are a much livelier bunch than the Morganville lot.

###

**Will Myrnin leave the ward and return to Morganville? Who knows. This may be where I leave it because hardly anyone's reviewing. But if I get a healthy amount of 'em, there'll be more chapters.**

**Find the link for The Rainbow Painting of Great Disgrace on my profile.**

**On another note… Have any of you seen _Dark Harbor_? I just did and I think I saw Alan Rickman's ball sack. I don't know why that makes me giggle so much. It just does. **

**NOW REVIEW, FOOLS.**


	12. A Girlfriend

**Sorry I really haven't updated anything in a while, I've just been doing other non-Fanfictiony things.**

* * *

I was back in my cozy home (or dreary laboratory, whichever you prefer), though I dearly missed the ward where my mentally challenged friends would visit me daily. Amelie was so heartless to tear me out of such a lovely place and drag me back to Morganville.

In _my_ opinion, Morganville was a stupid town. But if Amelie _ever_ heard me say that, I could get killed. I could get _hanged_. I could… I could be placed in the stocks to burn during the day, because I wouldn't put it past Amelie to be melodramatic over such a small thing. Because I was sure Amelie had one of those torturing devices, I could probably be stretched from my limbs and give my internal organs some damage, which wouldn't be deadly, just inconvenient. I c—

Amelie came out of one of the back rooms and snapped her fingers at me as if I were some kind of field hand. "Myrnin, stop your incessant mental ravings—" _How did she know?_ "— they're doing no one any good and you're just sitting around. Come over here and help me with this clasp."

Oh, yes, I suppose I forgot to tell you that Amelie was dressing over here because she had spotted a mouse at her lodgings and fled hastily because she's a baby when it comes to dealing with small creatures such as mice. She was only wrapped in a towel with her day's outfit slung over an arm when she arrived at my home, and rather rudely I should say. Perhaps, with Ada gone, Amelie saw me as her gay friend, to whom she could come running to for support at any time of the day—dressed or not. How degrading! Maybe I should get a girlfriend to show Amelie how straight I was.

"Myrnin!" she said loudly.

"Yes, master," I said grumpily. I clasped the metal thing at the top of her dress zipper easily and accidentally whipped her head with my hair as I turned around to go sit back down. I dropped my head and said sullenly, "That'll be five lashes, I expect, miss. It's a tough job, slave owning is, but someone has to do it," I said with a southern twang.

Amelie rolled her eyes at my ridiculousness. "Go do something productive, Myrnin. Invent a time machine or something clever," she said, waving me away.

"Very well, miss." I went to the back rooms and began singing praise songs that I knew would get on her nerves if I sang them with just the right amount of twang in my voice. "_Aaaaymen, aaaaymen, aaaaymen, amen, amen. See the baby—aaaaymen. Wraped in the manger—aaaaymen. On Christmas mornin'! Aaaaymen!_ _A—_"

"MYRNIN!" she screeched. I grinned and went out to the main room.

"You called, master?"

She lost her cool then. "Oh, just _stop_ it! Would you leave me in peace for a _day_? I have more important things to do than be at mercy to your childish ways."

"Well, _I_ have better things to do than house half-dressed women who run screaming to me because of a rodent."

She gave an exasperated sound and attached the second clip-on earring to her ear. "Here," she said, taking a bottle of something that sounded quite like pills from her pocket. "Take this. Bother Oliver. I'm sick of you. Just don't call me to clean up any messes you make while under the influence."

My eyes went wide. "Are those—are you giving me my _drugs_?" She must have really wanted me to go away if she was giving me my drugs.

"Yes," she sighed. "Take them and leave me alone. But they're in pill form, so you won't need to take more than—"

"_Thank you_," I said, sweeping her up in a hug that takes her by surprise. I took the bottle from her and dumped six or seven of the pills into my hand, swallowing them before she could say anything. "Goodbye, Amelie, I'm off to bother Oliver." I shivered as I felt the effects of the pills starting and leap through a portal into Common Grounds.

_She's spawned a monster._

.

"Oliver Oliver Oliver Oliver Oliver Oliver Oliver Oliver Oliver Oliver," I said quickly, touching all of the shiny metal in his shop. Oliver's shop contained a lot of shiny metal, it seemed, because coffee took a lot of metal to make.

The last few customers took their coffee and left Common Grounds, shooting me strange looks. The employees stood at the counter, not knowing what to do. Oliver wasn't in the shop yet, but as soon as he gets here, he's probably going to be upset for some reason. I don't see why, I'm just admiring his shiny metal coffee makers.

"_They're so shiny_," I said, weeping and hugging an espresso machine tightly. I wiped my eyes and downed some coffee that some customers left.

"Mister," a teenager said from the counter, trying to get between me and my new shiny love. "I think you should leave."

I snarled at the stupid child and he took off out the door. His clever friends who also stood behind the bar awkwardly followed him to leave me alone with my new love interest. Now I could prove to Amelie that I was a heterosexual individual—though I wouldn't really mind being gay if I actually did admire men; gays' fashion sense was absolutely fantastic.

"_What about Ada?"_ the espresso machine whispered in my ear, its tone seductive.

"Ada would understand. She's never been as shiny as you are," I answered, patting the top of the thing.

"_What about Claire?"_ whined the rest of the fandom.

"There's nothing going on between Claire and me, no matter how much they wish to see it."

"_All right,"_ it said, returning to its bed-ready voice. _"Oh—Oliver's come to ruin our alone time."_

I turned around to see Oliver looking at me with a horrified expression.

"Now, Oliver, this isn't what it looks like…" I let go of the metal device and hopped off the counter, but Oliver seemed to be looking at the machine with such horrification.

His face became angry and grew red with rage. I covered my face, protecting my most valuable asset, but the pulverizing didn't come. I looked up to find Oliver yelling at the coffee maker.

"YOU DIRTY LITTLE SLUT. I THOUGHT WE HAD SOMETHING, BUT THEN YOU TURN AROUND AND GO BEHIND MY BACK TO TWO-TIME ME WITH _MYRNIN_?"

My eyes went wide as I felt the effects of the drugs begin to wear off, but _what_ was I hearing? That bitch was dating Oliver and she didn't tell me?

"WHAT THE HELL," I joined in, shaking an angry fist at the metal. "YOU DIDN'T TELL ME YOU WERE ALREADY DATING SOMEONE. YOU JUST STRUNG ME ALONG LIKE A TOOL. IS THAT WHAT I AM TO YOU? A _TOOL_?"

Oliver and I yelled curses at the machine that came together to make an unharmonious chorus of filth spewed at the thing. And together we became bachelors once more.


End file.
